


the future freaks me out

by zombiejuju



Series: Saphael Week [7]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asexual Raphael Santiago, BDSM, Background Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Background Isabelle Lightwood/Maia Roberts, Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Bands, Barebacking, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Books, Bookstores, Canon Compliant, Coffee Shops, Collars, College AU, Dirty Jokes, Disney AU, Dom/sub, Engagement, F/M, Face-Fucking, Friendship, Frottage, Guitars, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Homoromantic Raphael Santiago, Implied Camille Belcourt/Raphael Santiago, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Master/Pet, Movie Night, Moving In Together, Multi, Music, New Orleans, One-Sided Camille Belcourt/Simon Lewis, One-Sided Clary Fray/Simon Lewis, One-Sided Simon Lewis/Seelie Queen, Other, Painplay, Past Camille Belcourt/Simon Lewis, Piano, Pining, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Reconciliation, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Saphael Week 2017, Social Media, Teaching, The Hunchback of Notre Dame AU, Tutoring, Underage Drinking, Violins, mundane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiejuju/pseuds/zombiejuju
Summary: This is a collection of future fics for all of the other fics I wrote for this series. The title is a reference to "The Future Freaks Me Out" by Motion City Soundtrack. This is prompted bySaphael Week Day 7(In the Future).(Camille/Simon/Raphael & Camille/Simon areonlyin chapter 3.)





	1. don't touch me please, i cannot stand the way you tease (touch me, baby)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Tainted Love" (Marilyn Manson).
> 
> Warnings: Violence, mental illness and self-esteem stuff, mind control, religion, control, blood, death (and happiness), and unfair concerns about asexuality. Nothing is graphic, most of it is implied/referenced/discussed.
> 
> This is a sequel to "[i will deliver, you know i'm a forgiver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121194)."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regardless, Simon’s grateful for whatever has Raphael lying on top of him. Because that’s where Raphael is right now, body pressed close to Simon’s. Lips slotted together, Raphael’s tongue swiping along Simon’s bottom lip then greedily delving inside when Simon parts them. Simon sighs as Raphael explores his mouth, tongue sliding along his own, over the roof of his mouth, across his teeth. Raphael brings his face from Simon’s and Simon blindly chases his lips. Met with nothing, Simon opens his eyes and pouts as Raphael sits back on his knees.

No more battles to fight, no more wars to win, no more casualties to suffer. Jace has, with extensive support, finally forgiven himself for the downworlder massacre and fully accepted his place beside Clary as her partner. He and Clary, Simon and Raphael, Izzy, Maia, Luke, and Meliorn meet up often for mindless movie nights at Magnus and Alec’s loft. The Seelie Queen never sends anyone to get Raphael out of the way and Simon suspects their ongoing friendship with Meliorn is the reason why (“Conflict of interest,” he reassures Raphael constantly).

* * *

Simon isn’t sure what he’s done to earn this. Maybe it’s all the recent bullshit that’s gone on: Camille breaking out of Idris, trying to take over again, almost killing Raphael but getting staked by Simon instead. It could be how good Simon’s gotten at using his powers. He can now _encanto_ Clary, despite their close friendship, and almost everyone else; except for Raphael and Magnus, of course. Alec is _very_ pissed off about his own vulnerability to a newbie vampire.

It could be Raphael feels comfortable in his own skin, knows now that he hasn’t been a monster for a long time. Or his increased comfort with the rest of Simon’s family (he even tentatively gets along with Jace now).

Perhaps it’s all their great dates. Simon introduces Raphael to other great films, his concept of the classics, and Raphael shows him what _true_ art is: _The Scream_ , _A Starry Night_ , _The Nightmare_ , _Frankenstein_ , _Dracula_ , Edgar Allan Poe, and “Moonlight Sonata”. They even talk Torah and Bible, trying to find a way to fit both into their unusual afterlifes. Raphael takes Simon on a New Orleans Tour because of his undying love for _Interview with the Vampire_ and _Queen of the Damned_.

Regardless, Simon’s grateful for whatever has Raphael lying on top of him. Because that’s where Raphael is right now, body pressed close to Simon’s. Lips slotted together, Raphael’s tongue swiping along Simon’s bottom lip then greedily delving inside when Simon parts them. Simon sighs as Raphael explores his mouth, tongue sliding along his own, over the roof of his mouth, across his teeth. Raphael brings his face from Simon’s and Simon blindly chases his lips. Met with nothing, Simon opens his eyes and pouts as Raphael sits back on his knees.

“Off, fledgling,” Raphael commands, fingertip sweeping the air to gesture at Simon’s clothes.

Simon complies, eager, hands grasping at the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up and off. He unbuttons his pants, tugs the zipper down, and flails in bed until he’s managed to kick his pants off...at least to his ankles. Rolling his eyes at Simon’s lack of finesse, Raphael helps by grasping the denim pooling at Simon’s ankles and taking them the rest of the way off.

“Aren’t you going to get naked too?” Simon asks. He sighs, palms coming up to lay flat on Raphael’s silk sleep shirt as the flesh on the sides of his neck is kissed and nipped at.

Raphael says nothing, lips too busy moving from Simon’s neck to his collarbones. He punctures various spots with his fangs, little pinpricks of blood rushing to the surface of Simon’s skin. He trails lower, leaving sickly purple-yellow bruises and blood stains in his wake. Stopping at Simon’s hips, Raphael makes quick work of Simon’s boxers, tossing them over the bed’s ledge. He grips Simon’s hip with one hand and grasps his shaft with the other, stroking him into full hardness.

Simon sighs as Raphael picks up his pace. He looks down at the marks marring his own body, “You said no blood lust.”

“Exceptions can be made,” Raphael replies, hand moving faster still. Simon clutches at the scarlet satin sheets, gasping as Raphael’s hand becomes a blur. His stomach goes taut, thighs trembling just a little, eyes half lidded and starting to roll back.

“I don’t know if this is the time to be using your superspeed, Flash,” Simon chokes out, a pained joke. Raphael lets go of Simon’s length, “No, that did _not_ mean stop.”

“Relax, fledgling. I’m not stopping,” Raphael says. He releases Simon’s hip and shifts further down the bed, head level with Simon’s pelvis once more.

Raphael glances up, holding Simon’s gaze as he wraps his lips around the head of Simon’s cock. Simon inhales, sharp and greedy, and allows his head to fall back on the pillow. There’s no way he’s going to be able to maintain eye contact during this. Part of him is trying to quell the spikes of arousal, the sensation of coming undone in the pit of his abdomen. He wants this to last. Who knows if the mood will ever strike Raphael again? Eternity _is_ a long time to go without.

Raphael brings his mouth to the base of Simon’s shaft, throat fluttering around his length. Some part of Simon recognizes that this is probably the first time Raphael’s done this, that there’s no technique, but he doesn’t really give a shit. Raphael’s mouth is wet and warm and the dude doesn’t need to _breathe_ and maybe it’s that last part that spurs Simon into action and makes him lose control.

Simon looks down at Raphael, hands fisting in dark curly locks. He applies pressure to the back of Raphael’s head, holding him in place, and starts fucking into his mouth. Raphael hardly reacts, expecting the impatience of his immature vampire boyfriend. He even moves his hands off of Simon, staying out of his way as he does his thing.

The abuse of Raphael’s mouth doesn’t last long. Raphael surprises Simon by grazing his fangs along the sides of his shaft and Simon releases far sooner than he means to, coming down Raphael’s throat with a groan.

In the end, Simon does _none_ of the work and Raphael wants _nothing_ in return, “Oh. I’m a spoiled little pillow princess.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” Raphael admits. He turns onto his back, extending an arm so Simon can cuddle up to him, “But it sounds correct.”

“Raphael Santiago: 13, Akasha: 0.”

“Are you truly keeping count?”

“No,” Simon says, rolling closer to Raphael and using his shoulder as a pillow. He throws an arm over Raphael’s middle, “You probably have _way_ more than 13 points, TBH.”

* * *

Simon thinks it might be early morning based on how sluggish he feels, but there’s no way to know for certain with the way Raphael’s placed heavy black curtains in front of all of the arched gothic windows. He’s staring at the wrought iron fencing that makes up the footboard of their bed and laying beside Raphael, both men on their backs, hands intertwined.

“I’m glad I fucked up,” Simon starts, breaking their comfortable silence. He lets go of Raphael’s hand and shifts onto his side, searching Raphael’s face. His eyes focus on Raphael’s, a silent plea for Raphael to turn around and face him, “Glad I was turned, because it means I get to spend an eternity with you. It means my death was worth something, meant something. Means I’m not doomed to love Clary forever.”

“Then I’m pleased with Clary’s stubbornness, if it’s made you happy,” Raphael lets silence sit between them for a few moments before remembering himself, “Do you really think life would have been better if I was always the clan leader?”

“Yes, ‘cause I wouldn’t have died. But also, no, ‘cause I wouldn’t have died.”

“A conundrum, for sure.”

“I love you,” Simon says, words leaving his lips as if it’s the easiest, truest thing in the entire world.

“I love you, too, pillow princess.”

“Holy shit, was that a joke?” Simon asks. His eyes are glistening and the corners of his lips turned up in amusement. Raphael nods and they both burst into laughter. In this moment, Simon realizes that even if the mood never strikes Raphael again like it did last night, even if he’s celibate for the rest of eternity, it’s worth it if Raphael will just keep laughing with him like he is right now.


	2. i ask for nothing, i can get by (but i know so many less lucky than i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael hovers in the doorway, watching Simon in silence. He’s standing on the rug in Clary’s room, right on the spot where both he and Camille died. He glares at the frayed fabric, mumbling to himself, “Really did a number on him, you fucking bitch. Do you know how much I’ve had to fucking do? To fix all the bones you broke? Mend the torn pieces of his heart? Piece together his shattered psyche?”
> 
> Raphael adjusts his weight, causing the floorboard to creak beneath him. He flashes away just as Simon snaps his head to the side to check where the noise came from and what caused it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "God Help the Outcasts" from _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ soundtrack.
> 
> Warnings: Blood, family loss, mental illness, bullying, violence, cursing the dead, torture, addiction, nightmares, death, blame, victim stuff, abuse, control, and prejudice. Nothing is graphic, most of it is implied/referenced/discussed.
> 
> This is a sequel to "[what makes a monster and what makes a man?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130230)"

One day, before she really even knows him, Clary asks Raphael, “How could you watch while Camille did all that stuff to him?”

“Lay off,” Simon says, “It wasn’t his fault. He was a victim too.”

“I wasn’t going to let her kill him,” Raphael promises, “I wouldn’t let it go  _ that _ far.”

“But you did,” Clary says.

“I wasn’t around when that happened. But you were,” Raphael retaliates. 

Clary’s face closes off, eyes narrowing in a glare. She huffs and stomps away. It’s an atrocity she never apologizes for, but she does treat him better later on, and Raphael forgives her anyway.

* * *

Everything is different now. Simon and Raphael are useful to the shadowhunters, use their powers to help on missions. Raphael knows what it’s like to be a part of something now, to be loved and cherished both romantically and platonically. Their family resolutely avoids the ‘M’ word. Eventually, ‘Ms. Belcourt’ is dropped from Raphael’s vocabulary. 

Alec is more or less the same. Somehow ‘older and wiser’ than everyone else (Raphael learns in time that this is because Alec was raised by a cruel woman just like him, a woman who had harsh expectations of Alec, two of which being that he must raise his siblings and sacrifice everything for the Lightwood name).

Jace has undergone reconditioning of his own, learning that not all vampires are bad. He’s still skeptical of others, but he’d trust Simon and Raphael with his life. He doesn’t say ‘vampire’ like it’s a slur anymore and limits his use of ‘mundie’ too, because Simon understood the shadow world as a mundane better than he did as a hunter of two decades. It takes half a year, but Jace apologizes for dropping Raphael’s body on the floor like he was worthless trash.

Luke asks Raphael for assistance with NYPD business that doesn’t go straight to the shadowhunters (“Because Simon trusts you, so you can’t be bad,” Luke had told him). Sometimes Luke or Magnus or the shadowhunters require vampire blood, hair, or tears. Raphael, now knowing what it means to be a part of something, is more than happy to offer up what they need.

Raphael knows what it feels like to walk around without fear, without having to worry about a frustrated vampire’s wrath or a shadowhunter’s blade. Safe and happy, he plays violin freely around all of them, usually in Magnus’ loft but sometimes at the Institute. It’s not just melancholic and beautiful anymore but more joyful tunes; and some instrumental renditions of popular modern music that Simon has introduced him to.

There’s still bad in their world. Simon can never see Eileen or Rebecca again. He doesn’t have mastery over his thirst yet, and he’s not sure he’ll have complete control over it within their lifetimes. He’s sure they’ll die before he can resist his impulses enough to hug them at family dinner and on Jewish holidays. Raphael still spends alone time in the dark, too used to loneliness and shadows.

Jace has changed, but other shadowhunters have not. They whisper dirty things about Alec’s team for including two downworlders. Jace, Alec, and Izzy spend a lot of time defending their vampires. They step up to anyone who challenges them and offer a sharp look, a whispered, “Drop your weapon...or else.” If the other hunters knew just how much easier it is to fight rogue vampire clans and werewolf packs with a whole clan on their side, they’d be more accepting of Simon and Raphael. Nobody seems to pay attention to the fact that Alec’s crew keeps coming back relatively unscathed, made invincible by their love and tolerance.

Despite how close Jace and Clary have grown, Izzy still taunts her about being a newbie shadowhunter. It leads to too many fights between the two, one of which ends with Clary’s ribs cracked, angry purple bruises marring her chest, and Izzy’s nose broken, garish green swelling around the bridge, blood caking to her lips and chin. Simon kind of gets it, really, because he’s kind of like Clary’s sibling and he doesn’t enjoy Jace’s company either. 

At least Simon’s stopped being Clary’s shadow, although he’s still not sure if that’s better or worse for their new lives. Better, he thinks, because it means he gets to spend more time with Raphael. Worse because Clary’s still his best friend, his sister, and he’s worried about her all the time. Her job is dangerous and he doesn’t quite trust Jace to keep her safe (and she’s not coordinated enough to effectively protect herself yet).

* * *

Raphael hovers in the doorway, watching Simon in silence. He’s standing on the rug in Clary’s room, right on the spot where both he and Camille died. He glares at the frayed fabric, mumbling to himself, “Really did a number on him, you fucking bitch. Do you know how much I’ve had to fucking do? To fix all the bones you broke? Mend the torn pieces of his heart? Piece together his shattered psyche?”

Raphael adjusts his weight, causing the floorboard to creak beneath him. He flashes away just as Simon snaps his head to the side to check where the noise came from and what caused it.

* * *

Sick of the way Camille always got them in to trouble, most of the vampires in Raphael and Simon’s clan are more than happy to accept Raphael as their new leader. The only ones that have a problem with him are the same vampires that tortured him in the bell tower. They challenge him and lose in a grand, pathetic fashion. Challenge a vampire who’s almost a hundred? They couldn’t even defeat Simon, the baby vamp.

Raphael agrees to follow the Accords and he’s the first leader to actually deserve the unwavering faith his clan has in him. He discourages everyone from feeding live and connects with an employee at a local hospital who’s more than willing to sell him blood bags for the right price. Hocking Camille’s belongings from all over the world keep his clan well funded and fed. Admittedly, a lot of that money is spent on food just for Simon. Fledglings are naturally more hungry than older vampires but even then, Simon’s a bit of an addict.

From a blood bag, Raphael tastes euphoria in human blood for the first time. He weeps at the realization that he’s been missing out for decades, been denied his basic vampire right to good food. One night, Simon takes him racing around the city to stretch his legs. Raphael learns he’s been denied a right every creature deserves--freedom--and collapses in front of the Institute when they’re done, hyperventilating in distress.

* * *

Raphael whimpers in his sleep, tossing himself around in a way that somehow doesn’t jostle Simon awake. Not that he needed the movement to wake him. Raphael’s quite cries were enough. He wastes no time in shaking Raphael awake. He’s not letting all of his hard work be undone by one  _ fucking _ nightmare. He spent so much time teaching Raphael to see tenderness in a hand instead of violence, affection in a mouth instead of abuses. 

Getting Raphael into bed with him was harder. It took almost a full year for Raphael to get used to sleeping in a bed at all, half a year more to let Simon in the bed too, then a couple of months to let Simon spoon him. 

They’ve set up shop in Magnus’ loft, in an ornamental room he’s graciously offered to them because of their connections to the shadowhunters (he’s trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s pants) and Raphael’s incessant urge to assist Magnus in any and every task.

“What was it like, watching me die?” Simon asks, breaking their comfortable silence. He figures they have to talk about it sometime. He knows some of the nightmares are about that day, can hear it when Raphael chokes out his name, a droplet trickling down his cheek. Simon turns onto his side, holds his head up with a loose fist, and observes Raphael’s face.

“Despite...what I think about Clary, her scream was the worst part. The agony, the heartbreak, the pain in it. That’s what told me something was wrong with you,” Raphael pauses, gulping. He heats up, a flush crawling over his chest and cheeks at Simon’s attention. He refuses to gaze back, “I know you think she never loved you, but...she does. Just not in the way you wanted at the time.”

Simon nods, licks his lips, and brings his free hand to Raphael’s face. He cups Raphael’s cheek and rubs his thumb against Raphael’s bottom lip before retracting his hand and letting it come to rest on Raphael’s bare torso, “Go on. Please.”

“It turned my world upside down. I had...trusted Camille until then. Seeing what she did to you, hearing what she had done to my family, meant to do to me. It hurt, it was torture, and I cried for the first time in what must’ve been decades. It was too much at once. My hand shook when I...took her life. My heart claw against its prison. It all...just hurt.”

“We’re just lucky that you had been busy keeping me alive all week. I’m grateful that you were there for me and happy that you’re here right now,” Simon says, emphasizing his honesty but bringing himself closer to Raphael and kissing the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet, “I love you, Raphael.”

“I love you, too.”

“Do you?” Simon asks, straddling Raphael’s lap and leaning against him, lips smirking against his neck.

“Yes.”

“Can I?” Simon asks. His lips part, extended fangs exposed. He presses the points to Raphael’s jugular.

Raphael gives consent through a small nod. He hisses, eyes rolling back into his skull when Simon’s teeth puncture his flesh, blood pouring into Simon’s mouth. He laps it up, sighing in content at the taste of Raphael’s blood, comparable to a fine vintage wine.

“Do you want to do it back?” Simon asks, kissing and licking at the wound he’s created on Raphael.

Raphael nods. Simon flips them so he’s on his back and Raphael is straddling his lap. Raphael shifts forward, freezing when he rubs against Simon’s bulge.

Simon cups Raphael’s neck, long fingers digging into hairs at the nape. He tugs him closer, brings him down so he can kiss him. He presses his lips over Raphael’s, moving them soft and slow. Raphael sighs and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Raphael’s mouth, dancing inside the cavern, along the ridges. Raphael moves away.

“It’s okay,” Simon reassures, hand leaving Raphael’s head to slide over his shoulder, down his chest, coming to grip his right hip. His fingertips dip into the top of Raphael’s boxers. He looks at Raphael’s face, searching for discomfort, but Raphael is just watching him, waiting to see what he’ll do, “Come back down.”

Raphael obeys, adjusting so he hovers over Simon. Simon nods to himself, grips the sides of Raphael’s shorts, and pulls them down past Raphael’s knees. They lock gazes and Raphael’s face contorts in confusion as Simon’s hand glides down his stomach and wraps around his shaft, giving a few firm tugs until he’s hard in Simon’s hand.

Simon’s fist moves fast on Raphael. And  _ oh _ , okay,  _ that’s _ what’s happening. Surprised at the sensation, Raphael loses his balance. His elbows buckle, knocking him down flat against Simon. Simon removes his squished hand from between them, “This is okay. I can still work with this. Just get off me for one sec.”

Raphael lifts himself off of Simon, trembling at the exertion. Simon works quick, removing both of their boxers completely and yanking Raphael back down on top of him. Lining their hips up, he thrusts into Raphael’s groin in one long, fluid motion. Raphael gasps, head dropping to rest on Simon’s shoulder. He ragdolls, letting Simon take control, quickening their pace.

It’s not a long experience, being Raphael’s first time doing  _ anything _ . He eagerly succumbs to the sweet torture of the barely there friction, spilling onto the base of Simon’s stomach. Simon keeps it up, rocking into Raphael, and Raphael hisses as shocks of overstimulation are sent through his thighs and stomach. Simon’s motions finally stutter, then stop, as he comes between them.

After cleaning themselves up, Simon and Raphael cuddle. Simon’s on his back, Raphael curled up to his side.

“I love you,” Simon says, petting Raphael’s hair.

“You already said that.”

“Mhm, I just wanted to remind you,” Simon says, humming and shutting his eyes.

“I love you, too,” Raphael promises. His own eyes drift shut, comforted by the ministrations of Simon’s hand in his hair.

 

 


	3. 'cause darling i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camille’s dainty hand waves Clary off but her eyes are locked on the way Simon is gripping at Raphael’s neck with his fangs. Biting, lapping, biting, lapping. Bite. Bleed. Drink. Raphael’s head is thrown back, neck bared, eyes snapping open and drooping closed with each new bite. She walks around the back of the couch, coming to sit beside Simon to kiss at his shoulder.
> 
> “Now, now,” Simon starts, taking his mouth from Raphael’s throat to face Camille. He grasps the back of her head, sharp fingernails digging into her scalp. She sighs, eyes drifting shut at the pinpricks of pain stabbing the back of her head, “You’ll get your turn, princess. Be patient.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift.
> 
> Warnings: Mind control, mental illness, death, and violence. Nothing is graphic, most of it is implied/referenced/discussed.
> 
> This is a sequel to "[i'm sorry, the old simon can't come to the phone ('cause he's dead)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137538)."

Clary believes, for many months, that she has let go of her old life. She thinks she’s moved on; accepted her place as a shadowhunter and Simon’s place as a clan leader. But here she is at Hotel Dumort, having a showdown with Camille in the middle of the lounge.

“You promised he’d be the same Simon!”

“I did.”

“He’s _not_ ,” Clary huffs. She’d like to believe she’s the picture of righteous indignation right now but she knows she must look like a child throwing a tantrum, left heel stomping on the floor and fists thrown downward.

“‘This is who I was all along.’ Remember?”

“That’s bullshit! I know him.”

“ _Knew_ him. Know nothing about him, now. Do you, darling?”

Simon struts into the lounge, tugging an almost naked Raphael along by a chain leash. Clary snaps her mouth shut in a tight lipped frown, eyes glazing over with disgust. She still hasn’t gotten used to seeing _this_.

Raphael waits obediently as Simon sits on his favorite satin fainting couch. He makes a lengthy show of unbuttoning his suit jacket, removing it, folding it, and depositing it in a neat pile onto the cushion beside him. He rolls the sleeves of his silk dress shirt up to his elbows, spreads his legs, and yanks Raphael into his lap.

Raphael shifts in Simon’s lap, adjusting until his weight is balanced evenly over Simon’s thighs, and Simon hisses until the movement ceases.

“What’s the problem?” Simon asks. He looks over Raphael’s shoulder at Camille. Despite his mediator tone and indifferent expression, his eyes send a sharp warning Camille’s way. Simon’s dominating demeanor sends a chill through Clary.

“The shadowhunter can’t keep her word,” Camille coos, tone deceitful in its kindness. She creeps toward Simon, hips switching, and comes to stand behind him with her hands grasping his shoulders. She leans down, lips brushing against his ear, “She can’t let go of the old you.”

“Oh, Clary,” Simon says, tisking, “I thought when you stopped spying on me, things were going to change.”

“It’s a process,” Clary says.

“Look at me, Clary,” Simon says. Clary tries to ignore the demand but fails, eyes drifting toward his. His gaze is hard, intense, pupils overwhelming brown irises. The invasive, suffocating sensation of being trapped crawls over Clary’s skin and into her ribcage. She can’t look away, can’t blink, can’t break the paralysis, “You’re going to let the old Simon go.”

“I’m going to let the old Simon go,” Clary repeats.

“I know you can do it. I believe in you.”

“I can do it.”

“You should go now,” Simon says, tapping Raphael’s hip. Raphael stands, turns to face him, and reclaims his position in Simon’s lap, “Go back to your Institute, little shadowhunter.”

“Bye Simon. Bye Raphael. Bye Camille,” Clary says, slipping out of the room in a trance.

Camille’s dainty hand waves Clary off but her eyes are locked on the way Simon is gripping at Raphael’s neck with his fangs. Biting, lapping, biting, lapping. Bite. Bleed. Drink. Raphael’s head is thrown back, neck bared, eyes snapping open and drooping closed with each new bite. She walks around the back of the couch, coming to sit beside Simon to kiss at his shoulder.

“Now, now,” Simon starts, taking his mouth from Raphael’s throat to face Camille. He grasps the back of her head, sharp fingernails digging into her scalp. She sighs, eyes drifting shut at the pinpricks of pain stabbing the back of her head, “You’ll get your turn, princess. Be patient.”

He removes his hand from her head and uses it to squeeze Raphael’s hip. Camille nods, eyes opening. She leans away, back supported by the furniture’s single armrest, and watches with quiet interest as Simon tears Raphael’s boxers off and wraps a hand around his shaft. He starts stroking, fast, and takes Raphael’s neck in his mouth.

Simon’s teeth claw at Raphael’s collarbone, hand yanking the leash _so tight_ . Without permission, without even begging for release like a _good boy_ , Raphael comes. Simon works him through it until he’s a trembling mess. Raphael slumps forward, presses a shaky kiss to Simon’s throat.

“It’s okay, pet. I’m not mad,” Simon promises. He releases Raphael’s leash and uses his free hand to pet at sweaty locks, “I know you’ll be better next time.”

Simon smacks Raphael’s thigh and Raphael understands, slipping off of Simon’s lap and onto the floor to kneel there. Camille reaches up under her own dress, sliding her panties off and tossing them onto Simon’s discarded blazer.

“My turn?” Camille asks, leaning forward and clutching Simon’s thigh with her right hand. Simon looks down at her stiletto nails, painted garnet.

“Yes, my impatient little princess.”

Simon gestures at his pants and with nimble fingers, she pops open the button and yanks the zipper down. She jimmies his slacks and shorts out of her way and clambers into his lap, hovering over his freed erection. She grasps the base of his shaft, positioning it _just right_ beneath her entrance, and looks into his eyes. Raphael might not be a _good boy_ but she’s a _good girl_ and she’s going to wait for permission.

Simon holds her eyes for a few agonizing moments before he gives her a curt nod. Excitement zaps through her, from her chest to her toes. She impales herself on him till they’re flush together, hands clawing at the fabric covering his shoulders, gasping against the flesh of his neck. She starts a sloppy rhythm, desperate for release, lifting and grinding herself against him.

“I know you think you have to be a good girl. But, given what just happened with Raphael, you _don’t_ ,” Simon says, lifting her dress to pool above her hips. He brings his index and middle finger to her clit, rubbing hard and fast. Camille’s hips stutter, lips opening in a wide circle to release a loud moan. He cups the back of her head to pull her closer so he can whisper in her ear, “Just let go, _princess_.”

A few more jerky movements of Simon’s fingers and her own hips and she’s coming. A high pitched scream leaves her breathless as she comes hard enough to wet Simon’s legs and the lounger beneath them. He kisses her temple and lets go of her. She stands on shaky legs and lowers herself onto the floor to sit beside Raphael at Simon’s feet.

“Pet,” Simon coos, tangling his fingers in Raphael’s hair. Raphael wastes no time in coming to kneel between Simon’s legs. Without being told or led to Simon’s groin, Raphael places one hand on Simon’s knee and uses the other to grasp the base of Simon’s erection. He eagerly wraps his lips around the head, tongue swirling around it, “No teasing, pet. Want it _now_.”

Raphael moves his hand off of Simon’s length and brings his lips down to the base. He hums around the shaft, tongue dancing around every bit of flesh it can touch without making his mouth feel as if it’s going to split open. He can taste Camille on top of _Simon_ and it’s, well, not bad, just... _different_.

Frustrated, Simon fists at Raphael’s hair, tugging at the strands. He holds Raphael’s head in place, thrusting up into his mouth, rough. Raphael brings both of his palms to rest on Simon’s thighs, getting them out of Simon’s way. He moans at the force of it all, looking up at Simon to catch his gaze. Their eyes meet and Simon releases down Raphael’s throat with a surprised grunt, stomach going taut as the wind is knocked out of him.

“Told you,” Simon says, yanking Raphael up off of his softening cock, “I knew you’d make it up to me later.”

* * *

Simon is invited to some kind of downworlder-shadowhunter transparency meeting and he _hates_ it. He’s sitting at some stupid round table in chairs made of blackened, splintering wood. Camille and Raphael are beside him, each chained by a collar to the armrests of the chair. Each time someone glances from him to them, then back to him, he smirks at their discomfort.

“What did you do to her?” Jace asks, storming in and standing across the table from him.

“I helped her.”

“You used _encanto_ on her!”

“She was suffering. She couldn’t let go. Now she has. Who cares how she did it?”

“You took away her free will.”

“Free will is an illusion, happiness is all one can hope for.”

“You’re a fucking _monster_ ,” Jace tosses out, lips curling in disgust.

“You made me this way.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You could’ve let me die. But you let Clary bring me back, helped her dig the grave, lowered me in to it, let her stop you from killing me when you should’ve. Even now, you’re too ensnared by her to end me.”

Jace glares, fingers curling into a fist. He wants to do _something_ about Simon but he knows that he can’t, not without hurting Clary. He stalks out of the room, letting the meeting resume.

“Do you accept the Accords?” Alec asks, eyes sharp as they bore into Simon’s.

“Yeah, yeah. Hasn’t Clary told you that I didn’t do anything to break them?” Simon asks, letting the ‘yet’ hang between them.

“Yes, well now that I know you’ve controlled her mind, I don’t know if I can trust her reports.”

“Keep shadowhunters away from my hotel and I’ll obey your frivolous rules,” Simon says. Camille leans down, chain rustling and tugging on her collar, and whispers something in Simon’s ear. He smirks, “Oh, of course, that ban is for _business_ only. Anyone is still welcome to visit us for pleasure.”

Alec grimaces, “And the tactics you’re using to stay on top?”

“I don’t have to threaten, kill, maim, or promise anything anymore. I’m in control. That’s the end of the story. No one dares to challenge me now.”

“Are you going to tell us who ran the blood smuggling ring?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve taken care of them. Vampires are _my_ jurisdiction. I’ll keep them under control if you discuss _all_ vampire-shadowhunter business with _me_.”

Alec doesn’t like it, but he agrees anyway. He wants to keep the tentative peace the shadowhunters and downworlders have been enjoying since Valentine was imprisoned.

* * *

 

Clary comes to him one night with a cooler of blood bags.

“I just wanted to thank you. You know, for _encanto_ -ing me? I couldn’t let go on my own.”

“Jace told you?” Simon asks. He snaps his fingers and Raphael appears, sans collar for once, and grabs the cooler. He disappears with it.

“Yeah. And don’t set me free from it, okay? I...miss you. I don’t want to lose you but without this,” Clary says, gesturing between their foreheads, “I can’t accept the new you. Can’t adjust to who we _both_ are now.”

“I know you can, some day, Fray. Even if you’re old and grey by then. You’ll get it right some day. Until then, I’ll keep you under my spell.”

“Thank you, Si,” Clary says. She steps forward, hesitant. He opens his arms to her, pulling her into an affectionate embrace. She sighs happily and Simon makes sure to keep his mouth turned away from her as they hug each other tighter.


	4. happily, i'm so happily ever cadaver (you're gonna be mine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael comes up behind Simon, pressing forward to whisper in his ear, “Should we ditch the party, _cariño_?”
> 
> “I know what you’re insinuating,” Simon hisses out. He turns to face Raphael, “And where would we even do _that_?”
> 
> “Tell me you don’t want to have sex in my hearse,” Raphael says, stroking Simon’s cheek with the back of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from "Happily Ever Cadaver" by Wednesday 13.
> 
> Warnings: Lots of vampire stuff, alcohol, stress eating, hearse sex, and sleeping disorders. Nothing is graphic, most of it is implied/referenced/discussed.
> 
> This is a sequel to "[call me up whenever you wanna grind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146715)" and "[till death do us party right here on crystal lake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12156435)."

Simon waits for Raphael in a gothic, vampire themed Italian restaurant where everything is black or red. There are jewel encrusted goblets beside plates made to look like faded tombstones. Forks chiseled to look like a set of fangs. Knives whittled into stakes. Spoons shaped like spades. Napkins mimicking coffins.

Simon rubs the tablecloth, made of obsidian cheesecloth, between his hands and scoots back in his sangria highback chair. His eyes dart around, focusing on the flickering black sconces near the front entrance. He fiddles with his black skinny tie, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

A waiter comes by and pours him another glass of _Vampire_ cabernet. Simon eyes it wearily. It’s his fifth glass and Raphael is over half an hour late. As if sensing Simon’s desperation, Raphael walks in a moment later looking immaculate. Simon sighs in relief and stands to hug Raphael when he arrives at the table.

Raphael presses a kiss to Simon’s cheek, “Sorry I’m late. Magnus was supposed to cover my shift at the club but he decided that he’d rather be with Alec than work for me. I had to spend two hours finding a replacement manager. I still had to shower and get ready…”

“It’s fine,” Simon assures, smiling. He pulls Raphael’s chair out for him and helps him get situated before returning to his place in the chair parallel to Raphael’s. He grabs Raphael’s hand and laces their fingers together near the vase of dark plastic roses, “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

Raphael smiles, exposing all of his teeth. Simon’s eyes zero in on his canines and he gulps, loosens his tie.

Raphael looks down at his plate and sees a card. His eyebrows string together in a furrow and he takes it between his hands. The cover is blank, black. He flips it open: ‘ _sim.ionbond wants to marry you. 1yr_ \--- I’ve made 329 POSTS since we met! You complete me...and my Instagram.’ On the bottom, someone’s drawn a replica of the gay coffins image on Raphael’s Instagram; a post from almost two years ago.

The waiter returns, placing a cup of dessert on Simon and Raphael’s plates. He fills Raphael’s goblet with _Vampire_ cabernet as well before nodding curtly and leaving them. The treat is made to looking like a ghost in a cemetery: ground made of crumbled oreo cookies, a candy pumpkin, a gummy worm slithering out of the ground, a Milano cookie for a headstone, and a marshmallow Peep as the terrifying ghost.

Simon digs in immediately, doing his best to ignore the way Raphael keeps staring at the card without saying anything, expression shocked.

“Let me see the ring,” Raphael says _finally_. He closes the card and lays it to rest on the table.

Simon stops, shovel spoon halfway to his mouth, lips parted. He knows he must look stupid. He drops the spoon onto the ceramic plate with a clatter and fumbles to fish a tiny box out of his pocket. Raphael stands. Simon forces his chair back, stands, and walks over to Raphael’s side of the table.

“Will you marry me?” Simon asks, surprised his voice hardly wavers. He kneels in front of Raphael and opens the navy velvet box, producing an engagement ring. It has a crescent moon on it, little diamond studs lining the shape and two bigger ones set on either side of it.

Raphael takes the band between his index and middle finger. He slips it onto his left ring finger, “I had to see the ring before I said yes. It’s beautiful, so _yes_.”

Simon’s never beamed so brightly for an Instagram photo before. It’s him and Raphael. Raphael, being the little scamp that he is, is biting Simon’s neck in the picture. He’s got his left hand on Simon’s chest, in the foreground, to show off his beautiful ring. For the caption, Simon writes, ‘HE SAID YES!’

* * *

 

Jace is still a jerk but at least he’s got substance now. He’s working on changing for the better, breaking his _heronfail_ nature. He doesn’t work out needlessly anymore and has gone back to school to get a degree in Exercise Science. _At least he knows what he’s good at_ , Simon thinks.

Jace proposes to Clary six months after he graduates. She moves in with him and he turns his home gym into a nursery. He gets a job as a personal trainer at a nearby gym and uses his effective snooping skills to work as a civilian consultant for the local police department.

Simon and Jace finally get along. Raphael introduces both of them to classic horror stars and directors like Karloff, Price, Lugosi, both Chaneys, Wood, and Hitchcock.

“Who would’ve thought you two would get this far from a booty call?” Jace asks during Simon and Raphael’s engagement party. _Yup_ , Simon thinks, _still an asshole_.

Raphael comes up behind Simon, pressing forward to whisper in his ear, “Should we ditch the party, _cariño_?”

“I know what you’re insinuating,” Simon hisses out. He turns to face Raphael, “And where would we even do _that_?”

“Tell me you don’t want to have sex in my hearse,” Raphael says, stroking Simon’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“I don’t believe healthy relationships involve lying,” Simon replies as he takes both of their champagne flutes and places them on the buffet table. He grabs Raphael’s hand and leads them out of the party.

Outside, he rushes toward Raphael’s hearse and yanks the rear door open before stumbling inside. Raphael chases him in and pulls him up onto his hands and knees. He undoes the button and zipper on Simon’s slacks, wasting no time in tugging them down to lay around Simon’s knees.

“Just like this?” Simon asks as Raphael fumbles around before procuring lube from _somewhere_.

“You’re lucky I had the decency to even take them off right. I thought about just tearing them,” Raphael says, inserting a wet finger into Simon. Simon clenches around it, pushing his hips back to pull Raphael’s digit deeper inside.

Raphael adds two more fingers, pumping them in and out of Simon quick. He stretches and scissors and it’s not too tight, too painful for Simon. They had done this too recently ( _had it been just a couple of hours ago?_ Raphael wondered).

“Let’s move in together.”

“Not the time for this,” Raphael says, slicking his erection up and sliding into Simon, “But clearly we’re going to move in together.”

“ _Before_ we get married,” Simon clarifies, fluttering around Raphael’s shaft and wiggling his hips back to press closer to him.

“Yes, _cariño_ , soon,” Raphael promises, leaning over Simon’s back to press a kiss to his neck and lay flush against him. He rocks into him lazily, nipping at the side of his neck.

With their slow rhythm, they still haven’t finished by the time their engagement party is over. Their friends are shocked, horrified, and disgusted when they come into the parking lot and peer in the hearse’s back window. Simon’s cheeks and ears redden with embarrassment, erection softening almost instantly. Raphael just tells them they shouldn’t go peeking into people’s cars if they can’t handle _this_.

* * *

Alec gets along with Simon and Raphael now too. He even followed Simon back on Instagram a few months ago. Magnus and Alec are living together after getting engaged two months ago.

Maia and Izzy have gotten together. Unlike their inferior friends, they’ve decided to take it super slow. They aren’t rushing to the finish line. Maia still blushes a lot and Izzy still smirks at her shyness. They sleep in the same bed now and Maia has found out that sometimes Izzy actually _does_ have sleep paralysis. Kisses, cuddles, and tickle fights usually make it all better, though.


	5. it's the creature feature, baby, from dust 'till dawn (baby let me sing you a scary song)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Raphael name their band Worn Sheet Music. It’s Simon’s idea because Raphael always hands him tattered sheet music and it’s Raphael’s composition that _makes_ their music. He’d been nothing without Raphael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from "Scary Song" by Wednesday 13.
> 
> Warnings: Codependency, Clace breaks up. Nothing is graphic, most of it is implied/referenced/discussed.
> 
> This is a sequel to "[children of the night, what music we make](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12162321)."

Simon and Raphael name their band Worn Sheet Music. It’s Simon’s idea because Raphael always hands him tattered sheet music and it’s Raphael’s composition that _makes_ their music. He’d been nothing without Raphael.

Their sound starts out angsty but the deeper into a relationship Simon and Raphael get, the happier their music is. It’s by no means cookie cutter pop (not that Simon has anything against that) but they’re definitely not inspired by self-deprecating 90s alternative anymore. No matter what, Raphael’s compositions perfectly capture emotion.

Worn Sheet Music writes a book together after their first world tour. It discusses their favorite songs and what makes each special. Clary is hired to do the cover and make art inspired by each of the songs from the text. There’s a dedication in the front to Professor Bane for bringing Simon and Raphael together. Raphael writes a lot about how music brought them together and Simon adds that he’s just thankful to have _someone_ to talk shop with.

Radiohead’s ‘Creep’, Avenged Sevenfold’s ‘Beast and the Harlot’, Good Charlotte’s ‘All Black’, Cradle of Filth’s cover of ‘Mr. Crowley’, Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’ & ‘Moonlight Sonata’, and AWOLNATION’s ‘Not Your Fault’ and ‘Sail (Unlimited Gravity Remix)’ are among the selections within their book.

To rate songs, they use something they’ve dubbed the ‘Lewis-Santiago Scale’. Simon rates music based on lyrics and their meaning while Raphael rates it based on composition and instrumentals. Out of the songs listed above, each has 4 stars except ‘All Black’ and ‘Mr. Crowley’ (much to Raphael’s chagrin).

* * *

Worn Sheet Music plays at the coffee shop from their old college as a fundraiser. They make a good amount of donations for the university to upgrade the coffee shop. The wood of the rickey chairs is recycled and students now get to sit on oversized lounge chairs and big comfy couches.

Clary and Jace have broken up but happily remain friends. Izzy meets Maia at Worn Sheet Music’s coffee shop fundraiser. She’s so beautiful it’s the first thing that’s held Izzy attention from her phone for more than two seconds in the last five years. Clary’s insanely jealous over their budding friendship and flirting. Turns out she likes Jace’s sister more than she likes him.

* * *

Raphael teaches a variety of music theory and composition classes online from their tour bus. During these times, Simon busies himself by playing acoustic shows at local cafés and bookstores, and teaching kids how to play songs on piano and guitar.

 

 


End file.
